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41
THE FARM.
Far in the soft warm west
There lies an orchard-nest,
Where every spring the black-caps come,
And build themselves a downy home.
There lies an orchard-nest,
Where every spring the black-caps come,
And build themselves a downy home.
The apple-boughs entwine,
And make a network fine
Through which the morning vapours pass
That rise from off the dewy grass.
And make a network fine
Through which the morning vapours pass
That rise from off the dewy grass.
And when the spring-warmth shoots
Along the apple roots,
The gnarled old boughs grow full of buds
That gleam and leaf in multitudes.
Along the apple roots,
The gnarled old boughs grow full of buds
That gleam and leaf in multitudes.
42
And then, first cold and white,
Soon flushing with delight,
The blossom-heads come out and blow,
And mimic sunset-tinted snow.
Soon flushing with delight,
The blossom-heads come out and blow,
And mimic sunset-tinted snow.
Just where my farm-house ends
A single gable bends,
And one small window, ivy-bound,
Looks into this enchanted ground.
A single gable bends,
And one small window, ivy-bound,
Looks into this enchanted ground.
I sit there while I write,
And dream in the dim light
That floods the misty orchard through,
A pale-green vapour tinged with blue.
And dream in the dim light
That floods the misty orchard through,
A pale-green vapour tinged with blue.
And watch the growing year,
The flowers that spring and peer,
The apple-bloom that melts away,
The colours of the changing day.
The flowers that spring and peer,
The apple-bloom that melts away,
The colours of the changing day.
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The falling blossom fills
The cups of daffodils,
That loll their perfume-haunted heads
Along the feathery parsley-beds.
The cups of daffodils,
That loll their perfume-haunted heads
Along the feathery parsley-beds.
And then the young girls come
To take the gold flowers home;
They stand there, laughing, lilac-white,
Within the orchard's green twilight.
To take the gold flowers home;
They stand there, laughing, lilac-white,
Within the orchard's green twilight.
The rough old walls decay,
And moulder day by day,
The fern-roots tear them, stone by stone,
The ivy drags them, overgrown;
And moulder day by day,
The fern-roots tear them, stone by stone,
The ivy drags them, overgrown;
But still they serve to keep
This little shrine of sleep
Intact for singing birds and bees
And lovers no less shy than these.
This little shrine of sleep
Intact for singing birds and bees
And lovers no less shy than these.
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Soft perfumes blown my way
Remind me day by day
How spring and summer flowers arrange
Their aromatic interchange.
Remind me day by day
How spring and summer flowers arrange
Their aromatic interchange.
For, in the still warm night,
I taste the faint delight
Of dim white violets that lie
Far down in depths of greenery.
I taste the faint delight
Of dim white violets that lie
Far down in depths of greenery.
And from the wild white rose
That in my window blows,
At dawn an odour pure and fine
Comes drifting like the scent of wine.
That in my window blows,
At dawn an odour pure and fine
Comes drifting like the scent of wine.
I live in flower and tree;
My own life seems to me
A fading trifle scarcely worth
The notice of the jocund earth.
My own life seems to me
A fading trifle scarcely worth
The notice of the jocund earth.
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Nor seems it strange indeed
To hold the happy creed
That all fair things that bloom and die
Have conscious life as well as I.
To hold the happy creed
That all fair things that bloom and die
Have conscious life as well as I.
That not in vain arise
The speedwell's azure eyes,
Like stars upon the river's brink,
That shine unseen of us, and sink.
The speedwell's azure eyes,
Like stars upon the river's brink,
That shine unseen of us, and sink.
That not for Man is made
All colour, light and shade,
All beauty ripened out of sight,—
But to fulfil its own delight.
All colour, light and shade,
All beauty ripened out of sight,—
But to fulfil its own delight.
The black-caps croon and swing
Deep in the night, and sing
No songs in which man's life is blent,
But to embody their content.
Deep in the night, and sing
No songs in which man's life is blent,
But to embody their content.
46
Then let me joy to be
Alive with bird and tree,
And have no haughtier aim than this
To be a partner in their bliss.
Alive with bird and tree,
And have no haughtier aim than this
To be a partner in their bliss.
So shall my soul at peace
From anxious carping cease,
Fed slowly like a wholesome bud
With sap of healthy thoughts and good.
From anxious carping cease,
Fed slowly like a wholesome bud
With sap of healthy thoughts and good.
That when at last I die,
No praise may earth deny,
But with her living forms combine
To chant a threnody divine.
No praise may earth deny,
But with her living forms combine
To chant a threnody divine.
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